Drunks commonly found roaming the hills of Hong Kong at night

Month: September 2019

The Usual Sheung Shui Shambles

“It’s a short run, so don’t do the wimps ‘coz the rambos is less than 1km extra,” said Penile dementia while vaguely pointing at some strange hieroglyphics he’d chalked up on the floor.

A miserable turnout this week compared to last – it just goes to show that hashing is all about promising a cheap curry.

Not to worry though, we had the hash elite this week – no chicks of course as they are crap, instead we had the mighty Mango Groove, One Eyed “this photo of me at the top of Mt Fuji isn’t photoshopped, honest” Jack, beardy sensation Crème Brulee, Sole Man fresh from Korea, Liberace fresh from his rounds as a door to door sex man, Eunuch fresh from the beer fridge at the 7-11, and Golden Balls who was fresh from a taxi 5 mins after the run had actually started.

What a spanker of a run! The pack spent almost 15 mins on the first check, and eventually had to go back and ask the hare which way to go.

Thanking the hare for his kind words of direction (“It’s right at the first check, you fucking idiots!”) we all trotted off into the outer darkness of Fanling (Kai Leng and Chong Tsin Leng villages) where there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.

First to get lost were One Eyed Jack and Eunuch – both fancying a short cut, but were rewarded by a dead end and a snarling dog. Next was Liberace, who after joining the rambos lost his shit when failing to find trail. That left the unlikely Franco-Lutono-Korean trinity of Creme Brulee, Mango and Sole Man to solve the one and only rambo check. “I solved it!” bragged Mango upon arriving home. “The trail came directly back to the wimps,” he explained to the pack who’d been waiting almost half an hour for his return.

Golden Balls on the other hand had turned up late in a taxi, had been given instructions by the hare on how to catch the pack up and due to leapfrogging the first check was catapulted to the front of the pack where he stayed for the duration of the run, oblivious to the bloody idiots behind him.

The circle included dancing girls, karate, lots of booze and some horrible T-shirts.— Eunuch

Too Tasty For Yer

To hare is human. To forgive this debacle impossible.

At least the third attempt by hare QT to perform in an area crying out for a decent run. If what we do in life echoes in eternity then the bones of run 1934 are indeed doomed to rattle on into eternity. Maybe even longer.

7.30pm. A reasonable crowd assembled in and around the pagoda at Sheung Tsuen Park. Unusual to see Golden Balls clutching a half empty bottle of Tsing Tao (that’s not unusual—Ed), but this was before the run. Several chest-puffing peacock-strutting septuagenarians heralded something as infrequent as a Dram wallet sighting…wait for it…a NEW RUNNER!!! In sports bra and figure-hugging bicycle shorts she cut a dashing figure. We’d need to be on our mettle to impress. Sadly Camilla didn’t drink and it was as obvious as the balls on a tall dog that by evenings end to her we’d still look like the fat balding ugly bastards we were. So it goes.

Off we set at break-neck speed down the road towards Kam Tin then plunged left into the villages and farms. A brief sighting of the infamous Sek Kong water pipe then around and around and around – back onto the same trail and around and around and around. For me the high point was the very satisfying shite taken half way around. Did anyone do the full run? I didn’t think so. Perhaps Jason and one or two others.

Radio 1 returned admitting she’s been daft enough to do the split where the right-hand option looped back on to the trail leading to the split. Not once but twice.

Back at the pagoda Golden Balls was clutching himself, a new bottle of Tsingtao and dreaming of sheep. He hadn’t run. He’d been SP. So it goes.

A speedy circle ensued and it was off to Tasty House for a curry and more beer. A great turnout that saw the reappearance of a sharp dressed Stringfellow with daughter Jasmine. Dram’s sparring partner Harold also joined the throng and was rumoured to have been something to do with the appearance of our new runner. But what do I know. I doubt she’ll be back – well if she’s stranded in Hong Kong, perhaps.

With the help of Messers Vin Der Liu and Carl Sberg the evenings earlier farce was soon forgotten. A green aura of bonhomie prevailed and all was good. God was in his heaven.

As the clock struck midnight we fell into Stingray’s luxurious BMW and were driven home with the stars winking through the sunroof and the strains of some ’80s techno-shite on the stereo. Crisis? What crisis? ON ON — Fartypants

Fujineers

A kung hei to all the hashers who summited Fuji on Monday, 2 September. Take a bow, Jessica, Josh, Dingaling, BJ, Electrolux, One Eyed Jack, Pushover and Catch Of The Day. Honorary mention to Geriatric who made a heroic attempt.